Post Thirty Three: Sorting Things Out

[witchofthechalk]

[Tiffany is tired. No, worse. She's not tired, at least not properly tired. Properly tired was spending two days on your feet without sleep. It was helping a new mother give birth to twins. It was when you spent your time on something that made the sheer exhaustion feel like an accomplishment rather then a weakness. No she wasn't tired. Not really.

But she was worried. And she dreams of eyeless things, angry music and gingerbread houses in the woods. And she decides since she's a witch she's going to have to do something about all this. Or a few things.

A. Housemates: Tiffany is sitting on the living room floor while she goes through the small wooden box of her small things from home.

B. Tiffany is walking down the street with a broomstick floating in the air behind her. She's holding onto it by a string as she walks along.

C. Susan, people at Susan's house. There is a witch knocking on the door.

D. There is a girl and a broom on a hill. While that might be a little odd, the strange thing is that she's flying. Rather low to the ground but still flying. It helps her think.


ooc: Tiffany is now able to hear spill words.]

Comments

[the-wee-big-hag.livejournal.com]

Not in all of them, but certainly in mine.

[She nods.]

The land picks its own witch sometimes.

[ooeeooahah]

I'd like to invite you over for tea, sometime when you're free.

[ She gives a small greeting bow. ]

I'm Ilsa Higa, at 1490 Kramden Road.

[the-wee-big-hag.livejournal.com]

[A bow back in return.]

Thank you. I'd like that.

My name's Tiffany Aching.

[ooeeooahah]

I should let you get to flying, but please stop by sometime.

[the-wee-big-hag.livejournal.com]

I'll do that.

[And with another nod she'll continue her walk towards the hill. Broom flying in the air behind her.]